


Out of Thin Air

by Endangered_Slug



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fairytale Land AU, Rumbelle Showdown 2016, prompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 16:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6476707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endangered_Slug/pseuds/Endangered_Slug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rumbelle Showdown Prompt Round 2. My prompts were: First steps, Person of interest, Universe hopping</p>
<p>Belle is suddenly transported to Fairytale land where Rumplestiltskin is waiting for her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Thin Air

Lightning forked through the night sky illuminating the town in stark relief before it sizzled away leaving only the scent of ozone and the coppery tang of electricity behind. It was beautiful and dangerous and Belle French sat at her window, watching the show from the comfort of her small apartment above the library. It was rare to have lightning showers in this part of the country, the sky was clear and the stars shone bright in between strikes, which came in closer succession as the storm wore on. The steady rumble of distant thunder sounded across the bay and before it could dissipate, another strike came fast, branching over and around the sky in a strobe-like effect that left her breathless.

Her book sat long forgotten in her lap as she knelt on her chair, looking up at the dazzling sky above her, fascinated with the display. She’d read about lighting storms before, but had never really experienced them before. When it first began, she tried to capture it on video to show her dad back in Sydney, but the camera on her phone wasn’t able to pick it up.

She didn’t know how long she sat watching, maybe a good ten minutes before the street lights flickered then faded before they went out leaving the street in the dark with only the stars and lightning above to illuminate their town. Belle was so enraptured in the show that she didn’t even notice.

It was the whistling of the wind that brought her back down to herself again. That and the faint laughter, high-pitched and reedy — like a child’s — out in the hallway. She sat up, listening intently for it with a frown on her face. No one should have been in the building except her. The library had been closed for hours and she had the only apartment. Maybe someone had run in to escape the storm, she thought as she slipped her feet into a pair of flip flops. She grabbed a flashlight before she went out and shone it in every corner in the stairwell landing, but the child… or whomever, was nowhere to be found.  The faint laughter sounded as if it might be at the bottom of the stairwell, just on the other side of the door to her vestibule. If anyone had tried to take shelter from the storm there, they would have found her door firmly locked.

She crept downstairs, and, as she reached a hand to the doorknob, she realized that no child would be out alone at night during the storm, but, she figured, in for a penny, for a pound. She gripped the dented metal and turned.

* * *

The first thing she noticed was that the air was dead calm sending the tiny hairs on the back of her neck standing straight up as she felt the stillness around her. The quietness, however, could be explained by the fact that she was now standing on a pine needle carpeted forest floor underneath trees so tall that the branches started growing fifty feet above her head. The light filtered down, soft and green through the high branches and she could taste the air and how it smelt of brown dirt and peat and moss and the inexplicable thought that her father would love it here flitted through her mind like a hummingbird before it faded away.

She stepped away from the dirty, concrete step that passed as her front porch, mouth agape, looking at the trees surrounding her open doorway in awe.

That had been a mistake because, as she turned around to go straight back inside her apartment where it was safe, the door, the building, the town had disappeared and only the silent forest remained.

Gasping out a shrill cry, she ran forward with her hands out hoping that she’d bump into the suddenly disguised brick wall of her building, but she ran straight through where it should be and stood, panting, in the spot where it wasn’t.

A dream, she thought. It had to be a dream. She’d fallen down the stairs and hit her head and now she was dreaming in the emergency room at Storybrooke General. That had to be the explanation. How could it be otherwise?

She grasped at her stomach, feeling an intense need to scream bubble up from the knot that had formed there and she was beginning to feel a panic build upon itself in her attempt at holding it in. She thought panicking would be quite reasonable in all actual fact.

“Well, this is a bit of a letdown,” a high-pitched and amused voice spoke just behind and to her left and, letting out a squeak that she refused to admit was a scream, Belle whirled around to come face to face with—

He was short, she noticed right away. Taller than she was, but everyone was taller than her and this… person, this…man was short. He stepped closer to her and she realized that his skin was scaled and an unusual golden gray and bumpy. Like scales or, no, more like the bumpy leathery skin on a chameleon. Maybe that’s why she didn’t see him at first, he could blend in with his surroundings. But, as she looked closer at his wild hair and even more wild outfit, she couldn’t imagine anyone being able to overlook him. He practically screamed to be noticed.

She found her voice then, shaky and thin. “Where did you—”

“Come from?” he answered, with a sly grin. “The question is, where… did you come from?” he asked, pointing a black-tipped finger at her.

“I…I came from my apartment,” she whispered, not taking her eyes off of his unusual eyes. Yes, a chameleon. And she was dreaming. “Where am I?”

“The Enchanted Forest! And I…” he said with a flourish of his arms before immediately bowing down with a leg stuck out like a courtier. “Am Rumplestiltskin.”

She blinked, nonplussed. “Y-you aren’t gonna make me guess?”

That was not the reaction he’d been expecting and he straightened up, his hands held tight and close to his chest. “Guess what?”

She huffed out a short laugh then. “Your name,” she said as if it was obvious. Why else would Rumplestiltskin be here unless he wanted to make her guess his name? It’s how the story went.

He looked at her, scrunching up his face in confusion. “Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. I never really understood that part of the story,” she said, slowly reaching out a finger to poke him in the chest. He was solid. He was real.

“Careful, dearie, if you want to keep it,” he told her, looking affronted.

He walked away a few paces before whirling back on her, his voice curious and full of questions. “I admit I was expecting someone — a person of interest, but I wasn’t expecting a girl in her jammies looking as lost as a wee lamb.”

She ignored the lamb bit and got straight to the point. “Expecting? You brought me here?”

He scoffed. “I did no such thing. I merely made myself available to an event I knew would come. Someone important, someone who would help me. The color blue was significant,” he said, his eyes flitting to hers before he turned away, hands behind his back and in deep thought.

“Help you do what? What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know,” he muttered over his shoulder. “I just know you’re supposed to help me in my quest.”

“Who told you this?”

“No one told me,” he said, turning back to her and speaking slowly as if she were incapable of understanding. “I can see bits of the future.”

‘Not very convenient if you can only see bits and not the whole,” she pointed out.

“Don’t I know it,” he said with a wry smile.

She crossed her arms over her chest, holding herself together. “What quest am I supposed to help you with?”

“That’s none of your business,” he said, testily.

“How am I supposed to help you if you don’t tell me how I’m supposed to do it?”

He looked at her again, his eyes alight with delight. “Well, you have sense at least, thank the gods.” He tilted his head, eyeing her closely. “And what magic do you posses?”

“I — I have no magic. No one does.”

“I have magic,” he said proudly.

Belle might easily believe him if she wasn’t convinced she was dreaming in the hospital.

“Well, no one has magic where I come from.”

He stilled and looked at her. Looked at her and not merely in her direction, but as if he saw straight through to her soul. “No magic at all?”

She shook her head at him. “No, none.”

“Good. We shall leave immediately.” He snapped his fingers and a cloud of purple enveloped them. “In the meantime, you can tell me more about this Land Without Magic.”


End file.
